Hidden Powers
by musiclover
Summary: Harry is saddened by his godfather's death, and wants to end his suffering. Can he separate himself from his demons and find life? Revamping for HBP
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not sue me. This applies for all chapters.

Prologue

He turned away from Uncle Vernon to survey Harry. "So, Potter... give us a shout if you need us. if we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along...." (AN: Moody speaking to Harry at the end of Order of the Phoenix p. 870)  
  
Harry watched as Uncle Vernon's face slowly changed from fearful of Moody's threat to an evil malicious grin. Harry could see the wheels turning in Uncle Vernon's head and knew, this summer was going to be, if possible, worse than the last one.

By the time they got to the car, Uncle Vernon's evil smirk was firmly in place, and it was starting to un-nerve Harry.

"What is he up to? Surely he's not fool enough to take on Moody!" he thought as he looked at Uncle Vernon. "Then again, maybe he is."

When the car pulled into #4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys ignored Harry and left him to lug his own trunk up to the house. He got to the front door and tried, the Dursleys had locked him out.

"Great, now what?" he muttered.

In a stroke of genius he called out, "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, let me in, Mrs. Abernathy is looking at me funny."

The door was wrenched open by an angry Uncle Vernon.

"Get in here, Boy." the door snapped shut behind them. "I will not tolerate you spreading your abnormalities all over the neighborhood is that understood?" he asked, spraying spit everywhere.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said, almost automatically.

"Who was that character at the station?" his Uncle questioned.

"Mad-Eye Moody, and the woman with the pink hair is Tonks, and the other man was Remus Lupin, and old friend of my dad's and my godfather's," Harry informed choking back the lump in his throat.

"And how about that godfather of your's, eh?" his uncle asked scowling.

Harry's face was filled with a sudden sadness at the mention of Sirius.  
"Sirius is...is...gone," he managed to stutter out. He couldn't bring himself to say Sirius was dead, the wound was still too raw. After a moment, in which he regained his composure, he looked up and met his uncle's gaze. The grin from the station was back, which couldn't be good.

"Gone, you say!?" Vernon said, failing to hide the glee in his voice.

A blind rage filled Harry. The bastard was glad Sirius was dead! How DARE he! Just as he was about to tell his uncle this, a meaty fist collided with his jaw, leaving Harry dazed and confused.

"What are you doing!?" Harry exclaimed.

"Giving you your cuppence, Boy," his uncle answered while continuing to punch, and now kick, his nephew.

"I'll tell this time. I'll tell the Order," Harry gasped out, his ribs were aching so bad, it was hard to breathe.

"I'm sick of you threatening me and my family with your freaky people," he retorted while continuing to kick Harry hard in the back, as the aforementioned party had curled into a protective ball.

"Besides, how are you going to reach them if you don't have an owl?" he asked, positively gushing with a demented excitement.

"No, he can't kill Hedwig!" Harry thought. Uncle Vernon moved towards Hedwig's cage and was fumbling with the door.

Hedwig started screeching with fear and worry. She was worried about Harry, she had seen the man hurting him. And now the man was approaching her!? Uncle Vernon had unlocked the door when Harry finally reacted.

"Hedwig no, fly away!" he instructed. The bird dug her talons into Uncle Vernon's meaty fist before flying upstairs.

"GET THAT BLOODY BIRD!" Vernon roared, but Hedwig had already flown out an open window.

"What do you think you're doing?" Uncle Vernon whispered in a dangerous tone. "I'll teach you to undermine my authority, Potter."

And with that, the blows rained down. He back-handed Harry into a wall where he continued to beat the teen's skull into the wall.

The last coherent thought Harry had was "Three days" before his world turned black.


	2. For I Rise to Meet the End

Chapter 2: "For I Rise to Meet the End"

At the Burrow

"I hope Harry's okay," said Hermione for seemingly the hundredth time since parting with her friend at the train station.

"He's fine 'Mione," Ron replied.

"His Uncle seemed different somehow," She mused out loud.

"He's been there for less than one day, what trouble could he have possibly gotten into?"

"I guess you're right."

#4 Privet Drive  
"Get your ass up you lazy piece of shit!" screeched Aunt Petunia, hammering on the door. Harry woke up with a start and immediately wished he hadn't. There was pain exploding from parts he didn't even know could hurt and everywhere in between.

"What a great way to start the day," he muttered to himself through clenched teeth. He had been having a pleasant dream, for once in his life, about what his world would be like if Voldemort never existed.  
He and his parents were laughing as they watched Harry's younger siblings (a set of fraternal twins) roll around on the carpet. As they wore out they switched to just sitting in a warm living room, with a cozy fire. His little brother asleep curled up on the floor, and his sister snoozing in Sirius's arms.

Sirius. That brought him back to reality fast.

"Why? Why did it have to be him? I should have saved him. Like I should have saved so many others. All my fault..."

But before he could get down that road much further...

"Get up NOW!" screamed Aunt Petunia. A clicking noise can be heard outside the door.

"I guess I'm back in the Cupboard," he thought bitterly.

The door was slammed open and, with surprising strength, Aunt Petunia pulled him out by the hair.

"You wait until your Uncle gets home. Now fix lunch."

"Lunch? What the crap!?"

"Get going, boy."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

While he was making the sandwiches, he tried to remember exactly what happened. It was fuzzy, as if the memory didn't want to be seen. Suddenly, there was a great roll of thunder coming down the stairs, and Dudley waked in the kitchen a few moments later. He spotted Harry and, with all his strength, punched his cousin in the ribs.

As Harry doubled over coughing and sputtering, everything came back. Mad-Eye, Uncle Vernon, Hedwig, the Cupboard, all came back painfully fast.

"Oh no Not again," he thought. (AN: I know this isn't how the books go, but I'm taking a little liberty here.)

It used to be like this every summer before he got his acceptance letter to Hogwarts.

"Never during the year," his Uncle's voice echoed through his head,

"Can't have your teachers finding out, can we?"

The violence stopped when Harry got his acceptance letter because the Dursleys were scared of what the "freaks", as they so adamantly put it, would do to them. They had drilled into Harry's head as a young child no to tell anyone about the abuse. They merely reinforced the lesson when he went off to Hogwarts.

When he regained his breath, his aunt and cousin had already taken the sandwiched into the dining room. Harry made himself a sandwich using the end pieces of the bread (which was all there was left) and a bit of luncheon mead, thinking about what Vernon was going to do to him before he was rescued. By the time he was through with the possibilities, he, his aunt, and cousin were through with their sandwiches.

"Get up here," Petunia snapped at Harry from upstairs. Harry silently complied as he followed her towards her vanity in the Master Bedroom.

"What's that for?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the makeup his Aunt was preparing.

"To hide your bruises, can't have the neighbors talking," she explained, applying the foundation to the teen's face.

"Hold still," she commanded when he flinched as she touched a rather sore bruise along his jaw line. When she was done with the foundation, she grabbed some blush. Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow at this and she explained,

"The foundation alone does no good, you look like the bearer of Death."  
Sure enough, when he looked in the mirror, he was as white as a sheet of paper. Aunt Petunia was a master at her art, by the time she was done, Harry looked better than he had before last night.

"Here's the list your Uncle left for you to do, I suggest you get it done." She gave him a long list of grueling, tedious chores to do before walking out of the room. He looked down at the list and felt his jaw drop. He's never get all this done before Uncle Vernon got home.

"Might as well get started," He mumbled before shuffling off to the tool shed. Most of the jobs he had been giver were simple enough, there was just so many of them that it would have probably taken him a week to do in good health.

"And they expect me to get this done in half a day!" he thought to himself. He knew it wouldn't happen. It was sort of like evacuating the area around a volcano. You can't stop it from erupting, but you can minimize the damage. He was hoping for just a small eruption from Mount Vernon instead of a blow out.

Harry tried to keep his mind on his tasks, but eventually they became too redundant and his mind began to wander.

"Kill or be killed, what it comes down to is I'm a tool. Once I've killed Voldemort, I'm useless."

"No. I'm not going to set myself up like that. Prophecies be damned! Maybe Dumbledore misinterpreted it. I can't beat Voldemort, not when I can't even get revenge on Lestrange. Face it Potter, you're useless, a useless piece of shit. You'd be better off if you just ended it now."

He stood still, transfixed in his thoughts. He had thought about suicide, especially last year. He tried to shake the thought from his head, but it wouldn't leave.

"I don't know why I'm thinking like this. I mean, I've still get Ron and Hermione."

"Really? You do?" the voice in his head asked amusedly.

Great, his cynicism has come out to play.

"Yes," he argued with himself mentally.

"Must be hard, losing everyone you get close to."

"Shut up!"

"How do you know about them? Maybe they just like you for your fame. Maybe they don't like you at all, just tolerate you. You were pretty horrible last year, you know."

"I said shut up!" he growled out loud.

"How do you know they'll stick by you when they figure out that if they do, they'll die. Just for your information, they won't. They'll drop you like a hot potato, all of them, then you'll have nobody, nothing."

Harry didn't respond to that. It hit too close to home. Dammit, why did he have to have such a convincing cynical voice in his head?

"Well, what do you have to say to that?"

He made up his mind; he was ending it tonight before the Order picks him up for not writing.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. He was called in to make dinner when Uncle Vernon came home; Vernon forced him to take off the make-up. It was as if the bruises were trophies.

Dinner, which Harry spent in the Cupboard with a piece of bread, a lump of cheese and half a glass of milk, went quietly, until Uncle Vernon started asking his wife about Harry.

"Did the freak get everything done?"

Petunia was about to open her mouth to defend her nephew when Dudley cut in.

"No, he didn't even get half of it done, and he started talking to himself in the middle of weeding the garden."

"BOY!" Vernon roared.

As Harry looked on at Vernon's red-purple face when the door was wrenched open he thought.

"Great, this one's gonna hurt."  
  
At the Burrow  
Remus Lupin was sitting by the hidden grove the Weasley boys used for Quidditch practice, just out of sight. He was thinking about his, now deceased, best friend, Sirius Black. He was finally letting go of his grief, he knew Lily and James would sort him out. He had been trying to convince him for two years that their death wasn't his fault and that he was a good godfather to Harry. He also knew Sirius was happier, he had been miserable at Grimmauld Place. It pained him to watch his friend slowly go insane much more effectively that Azkaban could do so.

No, now he was worried about Harry. How Albus couldn't tell him about the prophecy was beyond him. Any time would have been appropriate, except right after Sirius's death!

He just had to see how Harry was holding up. As he was walking back to the Burrow, a noise like and explosion erupted, which was common. As he got closer, he realized it was an owl screeching. The werewolf rounded the corner into the kitchen and cracked up. Ron was lying on the floor in the kitchen being pecked to death by a snowy owl. He was trying to bat the owl, unsuccessfully, and the feathers were flying.

"Hedwig! ARGH! Get off me Dammit!" Ron yelled.

"Hedwig, calm down, girl," Remus cooed.

After a few minutes, the two calmed the fowl down enough to set her on the back of a chair.

"Let's see what he said." Remus was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Nothing."

"WHAT!?"

"Nothing, there's no letter," Ron said bemusedly.

"Oh."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"What do you mean?" Remus raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"He wouldn't send Hedwig for no reason, and she's usually very quiet on deliveries," he said sheepishly.

"Hmmm, I guess I see your point," Lupin said seriously, "I'm going to check up on him."

"He's not going to like that."

"I know, but I've been meaning to see how he's coping with Sirius's death."

"Ah, I'll leave you to it then," Ron said before going off to find Hermione. Remus went to the fireplace to call headquarters.

"Remus!"

"Hello Tonks."

"Well, Hedwig just showed up--"

"What's so odd about that? Oooohhh I want to see what he wrote."

"--with no letter, screeching like a banshee," Lupin continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"What?! He wouldn't do that!" Tonks shrieked.

"That's what I said. I think we need to check on him."  
"I agree, stand back, um really far back," Tonks told the werewolf sheepishly.

"Let's go," Tonks said as they Apparated to the edge of the wards surrounding Privet Drive.

Back to Harry

Harry lay in his cupboard, having finally regained consciousness. He was holding a carving knife he stole while washing dishes earlier that day above his arm to test the sharpness of the blade. He drug the cold metal across his upper arm, leaving a thin line of red bubbling up from his skin. He felt a sense of release, like all the bad things were leaving him, but as quickly as the feeling came, it left.

Harry growled in frustration. He moved the knife down to his lower arm and made a longer, deeper cut. The bliss came and went. Adopting a steely expression, he thought to himself "This is it."

He drug the knife across both his wrists several times. The pain was intense, yet methodical and calming. He traced the veins halfway up each arm before he couldn't hold the knife anymore. He slumped back on his cot, covered in blood, smiling to himself.

He was dizzy and painfully lightheaded. Breathing became harder and an intense flares of pain shot through his chest as his life force flowed out from him. As everything became darker, Harry could have sworn he heard a song coming from outside his door.

"Catch me as I fall

Say you're here and it's all over now

Speaking to the atmosphere

No one's here and I fall into myself

This truth drives me into madness

I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away

If I will it all away

Don't turn away

Don't give into the pain

Don't' try to hide

Though they're screaming your name

Don't close your eyes

God knows what lies behind them

Don't turn out the light

Never sleep never die

I'm frightened by what I see

But somehow I know that there's much more to come

Immobilized by my fear

And soon to be blinded by tears

I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away

If I will it all away

Don't turn away

Don't give in to the pain

Don't try to hide

Though they're screaming your name

Don't close your eyes

God knows what lies behind them

Don't turn out the light

Never sleep never die

Fallen angels at my feet

Whispered voices at my ear

Death before my eyes

Lying next to me I fear

She beckons me shall I give in

Upon my end shall I begin

Forsaking all I've fallen

For I rise to meet the end"

("Whisper" by Evansecence)

Back to Remus and Tonks

"Tonks, turn that thing down, you'll wake the Dursleys!" Remus hissed.

"I just put a sleeping spell on them Remus. They're all out like lights," Tonks insisted and turned her music up louder.

"Turn it down just the same. What is that trash?" he asked, gesturing towards Tonks's oversized headphones sitting comfortably around her neck.

"'Whisper' by Evanescence," she replied happily.

"Your taste in music is atrocious, Nymphadora," the werewolf drawled.

"Wotcher, Remus!" Tonks warned, fingering her wand threateningly.

"Did you find anything upstairs?"

"No, nothing. His room's empty. It's as if he vanished, but we would've known if that..." she stopped abruptly as Remus started sniffing the air. As a werewolf, Remus had a keener sense of smell that most people. Right now he smelled blood, lots of blood.

"Harry!"

The scent was radiating off a small door under the stairs. He ripped the door off and pulled Harry out. The teen was battered and pale. His lips were blue and his arms were gushing blood. Remus trembled.

"No, Harry, please!" He let the wolf in him take over as he let out a long, low howl of pain.


	3. Illusions

AN: Late update I know, what else is new. My excuse this time, I got in the dog house with mom after she got a report that I was "glaring menacingly" at my Algebra II teacher. _mutters "Oh, how I hate that woman!"_ Anyway, she forgave me and told me to get high before her class everyday and that I should take up drama. Why? I don't know. And as to how this kept me from writing faster, I don't know that either. I just thought it was an interesting story. Well, Happy New Year everyone. May 2005 bless you all.

Disclaimer: Why the hell do I still write this? I own nothing, except my army of fudge monkeys.

"blah blah"- spoken speech

'blah blah'- Harry's thoughts

'blah blah'- Maethorion's thoughts

'_blah__ blah'_- Harry talking to Maethorion

**Chapter 3: Illusions**

Harry was in a large, dim room. The only source of light was a fire flickering in the grate, which was surrounded by a comfy looking black leather and ebony wood furniture set. The walls were lined with books reaching as far up as the firelight illuminated. The room looked a bit like a combination of Hogwarts library and the Gryffindor common room.

"Come and sit down, Harry."

Standing there, just as he had always envisioned them, were Lily and James Potter.

"Mom, Dad?" Harry asked.

They both nodded. Harry slowly walked forward and Lily wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She was solid.

"On sweet Merlin, it really is you!" After he made the revelation, Harry allowed himself to do something he hadn't done in years. He cried. He cried for the life he missed with his parents. He cried for the world he condemned to Voldemort's rule. He cried for Sirius, for Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Neville, Luna Fred, George, the DA, and everyone else he left behind. He cried until he had no more tears and was left hiccupping with dry sobs in his parents' embrace. Harry pulled back and averted his eyes to the ground.

'Way to make them proud Potter, break down right in front of them. What's your father going to think?!' He was stopped mid-mental berating by a large hand gripping his shoulder gently. He looked up into his father's warm, chocolate brown eyes.

"It's ok, Harry. Everyone deserves a good cry, and you're long overdue for one." Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards his father.

'This is not the same man I saw in Snape's pensive. This is my real dad.'

Father and son went and sat down on the soft, plushy couches and chairs where Lily handed them each a steaming cup of tea with milk and sugar. Harry had done this for other people many times, but he never realized how therapeutic it was. All of the problems in the world seemed less overwhelming and scary while the warm liquid was seeping into him. Once he had regained his composure he looked up. His parents were having a heated, although quiet discussion. About the time he tried to eavesdrop, Lily slammed her mouth onto James's and they quickly progressed into a very passionate kiss. A very red-faced Harry darted his eyes back to his tea cup.

'Some parents are, um, overbearing, mine are just very horny. Nothing wrong with that.'

'hahahahaha! You should have seen your face!'

_'Ok you're the reason I'm dead in the first place, so who exactly are you?'_ Harry mentally asked the voice.

'Turn around.'

Harry turned around in his chair. There was a wispy, iridescent figure of a young man, about 19, standing behind him. It reminded Harry a bit of Tom Riddle's memory down in the Chamber of Secrets.

The young man was tall, broad shouldered, and imposing looking. He was dressed in black dragon-hide boots, long and loose black slacks, and a black silk battle tunic all under long, firm, black battle robes. He had a hard-set tan face and full, pink lips. His eyes were a cool, indifferent emerald green contrasted with bright violet flecks in the irises, and his long, raven locks were pulled back into a loose ponytail by a piece of black leather. The thing that intrigued Harry the most about the apparition was his forehead. The smooth, sun-kissed skin was marred by a lightning bolt scar, mirroring Harry's own.

_'I…I still don't understand.'_ Harry mentally stammered, _'Who are you?'_

'I am you.' The apparition stated.

_'What?...How?'_ Harry stuttered out

'We are one and the same, I assure you. I was sent here to help you.'

_'Well, you're doing a marvelously fine job. A right gem you are. You're sent here to protect me and you wind up convincing me to commit suicide! Well that's just fan-bloody-tastic!'_

'I am you, you convinced yourself.'

_'ARGH! This is confusing! Is there something else I can call you so that I don't have a bloody identity crisis?' _The ghostly figure seemed to ponder this for a moment.

'Maethorion'

'_Maethorion__?'_

'Ok, that's weird.'

_'Now, why did you convince me to commit suicide?'_

'There are certain things that need to take place.'

_'How do I know you aren't working for Voldemort?'_

It was Maethorion's turn to be caught off guard.

'What!!?'

_You heard me. You get into my head, convince me to commit suicide…'_

'You mean you didn't already want to, in the back of your mind?'

_'That's not important! My point is, you get me to try to kill myself and then you come to torment me in my afterlife. That sounds exactly like something that sick and twisted bastard would do!'_

'I am not an image from Voldemort.' Maethorion spit out vehemently.

_'How do I know that?'_

'BECAUSE YOU WERE OCCLUDING!' Maethorion shouted. He was visibly shaking with anger and frustration with his past self's unwillingness to see the truth, no to mention the strain of maintaining his semi-corporeal form on this plane. His multi-colored eyes were flashing rather dangerously.

_'But I can't Occlude.'_ Harry stated in a small voice that was tinged with a hint of sadness. Maethorion seemed to deflate as he blew out his anger and rubbed a hand across his suddenly weary face.

'You're not going to trust me until I explain this are you?' It was more of a statement than a question.

_'No, I'm not.'_

'Very well.' Maethorion sighed, 'Severus has only taught you Occlumency through clearing your mind, yes?' Harry nodded.

'Wait did my future self just call the git Severus?!' Maethorion continued with his little explanation.

'That is one of many techniques to Occlumency. The technique you used was exactly the opposite. You filled your mind and being so much with one memory, one emotion that there was no more room for Tom, nor any useful information for him.'

_'Sirius's death?'_ Maethorion nodded somberly.

'It is a very difficult way of Occluding, but possible. Severus is a natural Occlumens, Occlumency is like an instinct for him. Like you and riding a broomstick.' Maethorion explained nonchalantly.

Harry could understand that. He and Ron had tried to teach Hermione how to fly, but he couldn't explain how he made the broomstick obey him. It just came instinctively to him.

_'Why are you…'_

_'_I can answer most of your preliminary questions in a little while, but for now, I think you need to pay attention to them.' Maethorion said, gesturing towards Lily and James. Harry turned back around to find his parents breaking away from each other, both of them flushed and breathing rather hard.

"Sorry about that, son." James apologized, "Just something about this place, you know." Harry didn't know, but that really didn't matter.

"So, where is this place?"

"Purgatory," Lily answered.

"'Purgatory?!"

"Yes, Purgatory. I'm fairly certain that my _sister _raised you up Catholic, correct?" Lily sneered.

"Yes, but I always thought that Purgatory was supposed to be painful."

"Yes, er, well it is, but you're not entirely here are you?" James injected.

"I'm not following."

"You're in a coma." Lily told him.

'I can't even kill myself right.' Harry thought dejectedly. "So, I'm not really dead?"

"No" James said simply.

'Not yet anyway.' Maethorion added.

"Harry, we need to talk to you." James said very seriously. "When you were a baby, Harry, we put a spell on you."

_'A spell?!?'_

You know, a spell. What they're teaching you at Hogwarts. You wave your stick around a say some funny Latin words.' Maethorion interjected amusedly.

_'I know what a spell is. I was wondering what kind of spell.'_ Harry snapped hotly back at the smirking apparition.

"I'm sure you are wondering what kind of spell we placed on you." James continued as if he hadn't been interrupted by his son and his son's furure self mentally butting heads.

"Yeah, actually. I was." Harry interrupted. James shot him a scowl.

"I mean…yes sir" Harry corrected in a meek voice.

"We put a power-blocking spell on you." James told him.

'What?!'

"You were a very powerful baby. Too powerful." Lily explained, "The amount of power you possessed would have killed you."

"The spell we placed on you was strong, but it wouldn't last forever."

"We had counted on being there to re-enforce and re-apply the spell until you were old enough to handle the spell on your own."

"Obviously that didn't work out."

"So, the spell has just been growing weaker and weaker?" Harry questioned.

"Exactly. It should fully wear off in a couple of days." James told him.

"So, what kinds of powers did I…ARGHHHHH!!!!" Harry started off, but he felt an intense flash of pain, worse than any he had ever felt before, mid question.

"Oh, dear. It seems like you time here is up. You had better get back." Lily told him.

"But…"

"No 'but's', Harry. It's not yet your time." James countered. Harry sighed.

'This is a battle you will not win, Harry.'

_'I know.'_

"Tell Sirius I love him and I miss him." Harry requested mournfully.

"Don't worry kiddo. He knows." James assured him, ruffling Harry's hair. And with that, Harry faded from the room.

James and Lily slumped down on the couch.

"Damn, I thought that brat was never going to leave. What did you do to him, love?" James asked looking over to Lily, who was gradually making her way on top of James.

"A Cruciatus cruse with an amplifier." Lily answered before proceeding to nibble on James's ear, causing him to moan in pleasure. A slight cough brought them out of their exploration of each other.

"WHAT!" James snapped, frustrated that he was, once again, having to wait before getting some of Lily.

"Anything in particular you want me to do?" Maethorion asked.

"Just make sure the brat stays on the correct path. Can't have him straying can we?" James ordered before turning his hungry brown eyes back to the woman who was currently straddling him. "And Harry,"

"Yes, sir?' Maethorion answered.

"Don't screw this one up." James warned him, hinting at severe punishment accompanying his failure. Maethorion nodded before disappearing from that plane.

"Now, where were we?" James playfully asked Lily (who was planting kisses everywhere on him except his mouth) eying her like she was his prey.

Harry was lying in a bed. He could feel several tubes around him. He felt what he thought was a clothespin on his left index finger. A steady beeping noise could be heard throughout the room, along with some steady clicks and a slight roaring sound, like the breathing of one of Hagrid's creatures.

'Where am I?'

He half-opened his eyes, amazed by how much effort it took. He was in starched white room, on he recognized as belonging to a hospital.

'Probably St. Mungo's' Harry thought to himself, dejectedly.

Suddenly, Maethorion's semi-corporeal form appeared in his line of vision, his voice sounding in Harry's head, almost like a whisper.

'Go to sleep Harry. You're safe now.'

And Harry did just that.


End file.
